Through griefs and joys, each sad and sweet, Thou shalt attain the end; Till then a goddess incomplete-- O evermore my friend! Nor is it pride that striveth so: The height of the Divine Is to be lowly 'mid the low; No towering cloud--a mine; A mine of wealth and warmth and song, An ever-open door; For when divinely born ere long, A woman thou the more. For at the heart of womanhood The child's great heart doth lie; At childhood's heart, the germ of good, Lies God's simplicity. So, sister, be thy womanhood A baptism on thy brow For something dimly understood, And which thou art not now; But which within thee, all the time, Maketh thee what thou art; Maketh thee long and strive and climb-- The God-life at thy heart. OH THOU OF LITTLE FAITH! Sad-hearted, be at peace: the snowdrop lies Under the cold, sad earth-clods and the snow; But spring is floating up the southern skies, And the pale snowdrop silent waits below. O loved if known! in dull December's day One scarce believes there is a month of June; But up the stairs of April and of May The dear sun climbeth to the summer's noon. Dear mourner! I love God, and so I rest; O better! God loves thee, and so rest thou: He is our spring-time, our dim-visioned Best, And He will help thee--do not fear the _How._ LONGING. My heart is full of inarticulate pain, And beats laboriously. Ungenial looks Invade my sanctuary. Men of gain, Wise in success, well-read in feeble books, Do not come near me now, your air is drear; 'Tis winter and low skies when ye appear. Beloved, who love beauty and love truth! Come round me; for too near ye cannot come; Make me an atmosphere with your sweet youth; Give me your souls to breathe in, a large room; Speak not a word, for see, my spirit lies Helpless and dumb; shine on me with your eyes. O all wide places, far from feverous towns! Great shining seas! pine forests! mountains wild! Rock-bosomed shores! rough heaths! and sheep-cropt downs! Vast pallid clouds! blue spaces undefiled! Room! give me room! give loneliness and air! Free things and plenteous in your regions fair. White dove of David, flying overhead, Golden with sunlight on thy snowy wings, Outspeeding thee my longing thoughts have fled To find a home afar from men and things; Where in his temple, earth o'erarched with sky, God's heart to mine may speak, my heart reply. O God of mountains, stars, and boundless spaces! O God of freedom and of joyous hearts! When thy face looketh forth from all men's faces, There will be room enough in crowded marts; Brood thou around me, and the noise is o'er; Thy universe my closet with shut door. Heart, heart, awake! the love that loveth all Maketh a deeper calm than Horeb's cave. God in thee, can his children's folly gall? Love may be hurt, but shall not love be brave?-- Thy holy silence sinks in dews of balm; Thou art my solitude, my mountain-calm. A BOY'S GRIEF.